


Coming Home

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Drunk Draco Malfoy, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Fuckbuddies, Hurt/Comfort, Life After Hogwarts, M/M, Making Love, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: Draco and Harry were fuck buddies. That is, until they became something so muchmore.





	Coming Home

****

_I'm coming home tonight_  
_I know you're ready for the sparks to fly_

****

It all began after a stuffy Ministry event.

Draco had been dressed in a custom-made three-piece Muggle suit, and his legs had looked about a mile long. Harry spent the entire event trying not to stare too obviously at the way Draco’s arse looked in those skin-tight trousers. Harry got half-hard just watching the pompous sway of Draco’s hips as he strut around the room, charming the pants off of everyone he talked to as he carried around a flute of champagne. 

Despite Harry’s efforts to hide his staring - and his arousal - Draco had definitely noticed. 

That night, they had Apparated to the nearest hotel and fucked on every flat surface they could find, plus a few not-so-flat surfaces.

It soon became a pattern; whenever they showed up to the same event, they would find a time to slip away for a quick fuck. After at least ten events, including three charity balls, two professional seminars, four conference meetings, and one wedding, it sort of became habit.

So one Tuesday, after a regular day of work, Harry didn’t even question when Draco took the Floo back to his place for a fuck.

They never stuck around for long after they had finished having sex, and they never kissed either. It was purely about sex and nothing more. Though they had never formally discussed the arrangement, it was an unspoken agreement that they were only there to fuck.

****

It was late in the evening and Harry was sitting on the couch in his living room nursing a glass of Mulled Wine. His eyelids were drooping with every passing minute, the comforting warmth of his flat and the steady pounding of rain outside his window lulling him into a sleepy state. He thought about retiring to bed for the night, but his legs felt too heavy to move.

Harry was about to tuck in and resign to fall asleep on the couch, but then he heard a knock on the door. 

With a sigh, Harry pushed himself up off the couch, walked over to the door, and opened it.

Draco was standing at his doorstep, his hair uncharacteristically messy and his eyes rimmed red. He swayed where he stood, and when Harry took a step closer toward him, his nose filled with the scent of Firewhiskey, the fragrance so potent it was as though Draco’s skin was drenched in it. 

“What do you need?” Harry asked without a second thought, concern and dread flowing through his body as he took in Draco’s appearance. 

Draco’s voice shook as he replied, “ _You_.”

Harry swallowed roughly and nodded, placing a steadying hand on Draco’s lower back and guiding him inside.

****

Harry undressed Draco gently with reverent hands, following each press of his fingers with soft kisses that trailed across Draco’s shoulders and up his slim throat.

Tears rolled down Draco’s face silently as Harry pressed inside, Draco’s trembling fingers clenched on Harry’s hips, teardrops clinging to his eyelashes like morning dew clung to the grass. 

A slow pace had never felt natural for Harry, but his body seemed to slow down instinctually in response to Draco's distress, guiding him to move with intention and provide reassurance whenever possible.

He whispered praises over the shell of Draco’s ear, carded his hands through the sweat-slick strands of his hair, and caressed the skin at the base of Draco’s neck, sliding his thumb over Draco’s pulse and feeling for that rhythmic, steady beat.

Harry matched the pace of his hips to the beating of Draco’s heart, following the cues that Draco’s body was giving him, reading each hitch of his breath and stutter of his heart as a message that Draco didn’t have the words to articulate. 

They fucked achingly slow but with a fierce power that Harry hadn’t realized he was capable of.

When Harry came, he cried out as his orgasm shot through him, release filling Draco like a promise of so much more, pulling out slowly after and moving down his body, licking gently at Draco’s stretched rim, catching drops of come on his tongue and lapping it up, something swelling warmly in his chest as Draco writhed and shook above him, their hands clasped tightly at his sides. 

After a moment, Harry lifted his head to peer up at Draco, catching his eye and noticing the darkness that seemed to be clouding Draco’s gaze, his vision somewhat unfocused, something almost lost in his eyes. 

Harry leaned back down to suck one of Draco’s balls between his lips, running his tongue over the silken skin and rolling the hardening flesh in his mouth.

As Harry licked a line from base to tip, Draco’s body shook violently, toes curling and eyelids fluttering as he opened his mouth in a wordless moan. 

Draco clutched at Harry’s hair like an anchor, grounding himself, the unsteadiness of his gaze seeming to smooth out, the lost look gone from his features as Harry hollowed his checks and swallowed him down to the base. 

Draco’s body went stiff when he came, every muscle clenching as his cock jerked inside Harry’s mouth, pulsing out come that lined the inside of Harry’s checks and the sensitive surface of his tongue. 

It was only then, once Draco had reached his release, that he seemed to relax, his body going pliant and his features softening as he fell into a deep sleep. 

Harry pulled a soft blanket over Draco’s vulnerable form, letting out a sigh as he exited his room, leaving Draco to sleep in peace.

****

When Harry awoke on the couch the next morning, Draco was nowhere to be found - the slightly rumpled sheets on his bed the only physical evidence of their time together.

At the Ministry, Harry ran into Draco a number of times, and while Draco went about his day as if nothing had happened, sparing Harry no extra glances and walking around the hallways with his usual swagger, the redness in his eyes was gone and his skin had a healthy glow to it that Harry hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Seeing Draco look so strong and confident was enough to settle the churning sensation in the pit of Harry’s stomach, enough to soothe his concerns and give him the freedom to move headfirst into the rest of his schedule, sitting in on dozens of meetings and answering a number of interdepartmental memos before the workday came to a close.

****

Harry was just beginning to settle in for the night, still clad in his work trousers and a midnight blue button-up, though he had at least removed his tie and rolled the sleeves, giving his skin room to breathe after hours of being confined in the slim fitting fabric.

He flicked his wand to light a set of candles around his flat, turning off his Muggle light fixtures and plopping down into an armchair with a copy of the _Quibbler._ The newest edition came with a bracelet that was intended to push on a pressure point on the wearers wrist and help drunk witches and wizards center themselves prior to Apparition. 

It was actually a brilliant concept, and Harry slipped the small bracelet onto his wrist. Immediately he felt something calm within himself, his heart rate slowing with the gentle pressure and his head clearing. 

Just then, someone rapped on Harry’s front door. 

When Harry opened the door, he was somehow both shocked and entirely unsurprised to find Malfoy standing on his doorstep. 

This time, however, Draco was not drunk, nor was he crying. 

He was still sporting that healthy glow Harry had noticed earlier in the day, and he was carrying a small bag in his hand. 

As soon as the door opened, he was striding confidently past Harry into the flat and proclaiming, “I brought food from a new restaurant that opened a few blocks over, they make an exquisite salmon linguine, which is probably far better than whatever sad meal you were planning to eat for dinner.”

Harry shook his head and let out a small chuckle at Draco’s sheer boldness, but closed his front door and walked over to join Draco on the couch. 

They ate, drank, and talked for hours, the time passing comfortably, the conversation and banter flowing in a way that Harry had never experienced. 

When all their plates had been cleared, it seemed natural for Harry to lead Draco back to his bedroom. 

But that night, they didn’t fuck. They didn’t need to. 

Their relationship had always been unspoken, so much written in the weight of their gazes, so much written between the lines. And something unspoken had passed between them ever since Draco had shown up drunk on Harry’s doorstep. 

Draco had found a safe place in Harry, and Harry had found his own sense of comfort and self in being what Draco needed. 

As they crawled into bed, Draco grumbled that Harry was monopolizing the covers, Harry chided Draco for wearing silk pajamas, and they both fought about whether or not to sleep with candles lit. 

But in some strange way, it all made sense.

For the next week, Draco showed up at Harry’s door every evening after work.

Several months later, he moved in. 

Draco was home.

****

_So breathe in, and hold tight_  
_I'm coming home tonight_

****

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes when you're dealing with panic attacks, you just need to write some calming happy-ending fic. Title and lyrics from “Coming Home” by Sheppard.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <3


End file.
